


Show Me Your Teeth

by magicalsalamander



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Assassins & Hitmen, Dog Hybrid Park Jimin (BTS), Domestic Fluff, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, FBI Agent, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hybrid Park Jimin (BTS), Hybrids, K-Pop - Freeform, Mild Language, Romantic Fluff, Science Fiction, Sexual Content, Smut, Spies & Secret Agents, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violence, bts - Freeform, bts jimin, human/hybrid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicalsalamander/pseuds/magicalsalamander
Summary: Hybrids were common amongst civilians, but monsters lurked, created by the government. H.O.U.N.D, pronounced hound, is Hybrid Operation in United Negotiation of Defense, an allegiance of hybrids and federal officers. They were weapons breed for tactic and war. Special agent Y/L/N came back marked a failure after your secret last mission. Politics involved, you were to be assigned a Hound officer. What happens when the monster, Cerberus, gets assigned to you?
Relationships: BTS/Reader, BTS/You - Relationship, Park Jimin & Reader, Park Jimin (BTS) & Reader, Park Jimin (BTS) & You, Park Jimin (BTS)/Original Character(s), Park Jimin (BTS)/Original Female Character(s), Park Jimin (BTS)/Reader, Park Jimin (BTS)/You, bts/original character(s)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 221





	Show Me Your Teeth

Lowering your hand from your brow you waited until you were signaled to ease. The hardened expression of the Director followed from the crumpled document on his desk to you, he gestured silently for you to sit. Carefully maneuvering your left arm as you sat down in one of the leather seats in front of his oversized desk. The mahogany desk was in a state of semi-cluttered, several stacks of papers yet the items closets to you were impeccable. His gold plaque with his name proudly written was polished as it gleamed.

Politics, the size was compensating for something.

The dark pigment under his baggy eyes shadowed deeper as his neutral expression wavered as he held your gaze. You were glad he couldn’t hear your heartbeat, but it was near deafening in your ears. He folded his hands on top of his desk, cinching the shoulders of his black suit that was normally starched beyond movement. The amount of medals on the left breast had him wiggling his left arm in adjustment until he settled. The sheer amount of medals he’s collected since his service to his time as the Director of the FBI was quite obnoxious.

You sat perched near the edge of your seat, you already had an idea of what was going to happen. As soon as you got off the plane you were escorted to headquarters, duffle bag still packed. In the steady voice, “Agent Y/L/N reporting back from Victiz. Sir, you requested my audience?”

He reached into his desk, medals clanking, and pulled out a thick manilla folder at least a hundred pages thick. Papers slid out of it as he let gravity take over and slammed it onto his desk. You didn’t dare break eye contact with him focusing on the tip of his bulbous nose. The silence was eerie as he flipped it open, he pulled out a thick packet and placed it facing you. Quickly glancing down you read the title then back up, it was your report you had submitted.

“Y/L/N in your recent mission to Victiz, we’ve,” clearing his throat, “come to realize that you require assistance.”

Domestics was your playing field, but upon special request, you answered the call to duty, even if it lied overseas. You’d always say yes to the Director—at least, you used to. Loyalty ran deep in your veins as it was empathy, and pretense to serve him. Without him you wouldn’t be here today, but…three months, three months had your eyes wavering in darkness.

You took in a deep breath; one you’ve been holding in for the last three months. You sharply gritted your teeth before you calmed yourself on the discrete exhale. You knew why he had called you and it wasn’t because of your “lack of ability”. It was his lack of ability to save his ass. Three months, you spent three months amongst a revolution to come home and be told you required assistance. You swallowed your pride in front of your commander. “Sir, I had no choice.”

He arched a brow, “No choice?” He tilted his head in condescendence, “There is no excuse for weakness or mistakes Agent Y/L/N. Our country depends on you. I depend on you. We can’t afford that type of mistake again—the world may be splitting because you couldn’t prevent it. Do you understand Agent?”

Correction, his mistake. This was all diversion from the real problem. You became a special agent going through hell, fighting and outcompeting the rest to prove you were worthy. Seeing the other agents assigned a Hound used to put a smirk on your face. The Director even smirking alongside you as he praised you. With the vendetta you worked hard for five years to get where you are now, to earn his praise, assigned top-secret missions by the Director, without the help of a hound. You raised from the soil, trudged through the mud to stand where you are now—on your own.

Quickly your loyalty was turning to sludge and embolic. You fought to keep yourself empathetic and loyal. He was like a father after all to you. The eyes that once looked at you with pride and adoration turned to hate and bitterness.

You gritted your teeth, “Yes, Sir.”

Adjusting himself to sit upright by smoothing out the lapels of his coat, “Every elite agent has a H.O.U.N.D and you are the last without one. The government specially created and trained these…monsters, so things like that won’t happen. They never miss a target.”

You were aware of them; you had seen agents with their own as the government began initiating the integration two years ago. H.O.U.N.D, pronounced hound, was Hybrid Operation in United Negotiation of Defense. A specialized unit of canine hybrids that were bred for war, ruthless in the way they fought like their animal counterpart. Although they were human in resemblance except for the dog tail and ears. You didn’t know much about them besides the occasion you saw other agents with their officer in passing. However, you heard tales of limbs being snapped by jaws, their extended fangs, and their bloodthirst. Rumor or not, you wouldn’t question their ability—they are hell hounds as they were breed for.

“Agent, you were shot and held captive.” He chuckled but it held no humor, it was condescending. “It was supposed to be easy for you, yet here you are injured. I never thought you’d disappoint me so greatly Y/L/N.”

You bit the inside of your cheek taming your tongue behind your teeth. Your mind flashes back to three months ago when you sat down in the same office in the dead of night. There was a state of emergency in Victiz, the country was in an uproar over the tyranny as the public demanded a democracy. Your countries ambassador in Victiz was kidnapped by an extremist guerilla group trying to reestablish tyranny. The Victiz government did not want to be involved in the recovery of your representative.

The Director was right, it was supposed to be a simple rescue. You’ve run through drills of disarming and recovery a million times.

It was supposed to be.

Sneaking in through a slip in the wall you stuck to the wall as you navigated the warehouse. You hid behind crates as you glanced around the corner. The target was sitting alone in a foldable chair. A single overhead light that illuminated the isles intervalley shadowed his silhouette as he was hunched forward. Assessing your position you quietly loaded your hand with a knife. The sound of footsteps filled your ears. The world paused as you listened in catching a glance around, still in the shadows. Emerging from the shadows the footsteps took on a presence of a tall silhouette to a masked male figure.

You watched as the man raised a gun and pointed it directly at the target. “It’ll all be over soon.” He flicked his index over the pull trigger.

Switching your blade for your gun you stood up and sidestepped out. Pointing your gun at the captor, “Freeze!”

The man cocked a thick brow then pointed the gun at you. “Oh, we have visitors?”

The man chuckled, nudging the barrel against the ambassador’s shoulder. “Your people here to rescue you. Looks like they just sent one, you must not be as important as you say you are.”

The ambassador stood up from his chair and your heart skipped a beat as he stood up with a smirk and tucked his hands in his pockets. The pit of your stomach fell and rose to your throat with revolting ad nauseam. Your skin rolled in waves of goosebumps. Immediately you began calculating things in your mind as the man with the gun took a step forward towards you the ambassador stopped him with a raised hand. The ambassador took the gun from the man and pointed it directly at you. “The war begins tonight. Long live the tyrant.”

He punctuated each last word, then he pulled the trigger.

Blinking away the memory, you looked up to your commander. “Director, I don—.”

He cut you off with a hand held in the air. “Agent, I understand, but we are implementing the change whether you like it or not. You’re getting a hound. He will be directly working alongside you and you are to take responsibility for him.”

You tried once again, “Director—.”

“A hybrid life is disposable but yours isn’t Agent.”

Fumes tickled in your stomach, yet, you sat with your tongue still; venomous words sitting at the tip of it for him. You—you still were loyal. You knew he was being harsh because of how all this had made him look. How this blunder in the ambassador’s double nature had made him look incompetent, the FBI incompetent—and it rested all on your shoulders. Over the pain, blacking out for the most of it, you remember mostly darkness, the itchy blindfold, yet the patriotism you held tightly behind your clenched teeth stayed there.

You were loyal and always will be.

By implementing a hound, it would boost the false security that the forces were incomparable and fearful as whispered about in foreign lands. It was all politics. You were the punching bag while he shined with the glory of strengthening the nation in a time where the rest of the world is grasping for glory. He was making sure agents are strong and safe. In the shadow of glory, you were powerless and under his command to obey.

A soldier’s duty to obey.

You were loyal and always would be.

He fished through the folder as he spoke, his voice taking on a harsh tone. “If you had one it wouldn’t have happened Agent. I really trusted and believed in you, but I now know your skills. Certainly, it will never compare to a hound’s. Don’t ever forget you are representing me when you’re out on the field.” He snorted smugly under his breath, “Maybe you need a whole team of hounds.”

You felt his words cutting deep, the bullet shards in your arm somehow burying deeper. His words hurt. This is where you open your mouth. “Director, I do not need a hound. I’m capable of handling myself.”

He cleared his throat and sighed, “I’m not changing my mind Y/L/N.”

Flipping through the folder again and pulled out a paper putting it over your report. Standing up from his desk he straightened out his jacket and rounded his desk. Glancing down at the application form a picture in the left corner showcases a picture of a man—no, a hybrid, a hound. The hybrid’s face was handsome at first glance, but you didn’t get to look more than that.

“This is H.O.U.N.D Officer Park, rottweiler, and top of his class. A real monster with a count. Got the impact of a truck when he strikes, and a good shot with a 364 score. The H.O.U.N.D has never seen anything like him. A true beast of a machine.”

You read off the same stats that the general was giving to you. His list of awards and achievements trailed off to the second page you didn’t bother to turn to. He was good, no he was great, but still…you didn’t want the hound.

The Director cleared his throat and in a booming voice, “Officer Park, enter.”

You heard the doorknob clink as it twists and heavily boots thumped rhythmically on the wooden floor. You twist around in your seat and came to face the rottweiler. His tall, lean figure filled out his pressed clothes. His white shirt was taunt as it alluded to the idea of the refined muscles underneath; silver tags hung from his neck and clanked softly as he marched until he paused a few feet from you. His black cargo pants that were tight around his thighs were tucked neatly into his polished, black combat boots that gleamed as he snapped his heels together to stand at attention as he saluted.

You finally took in his face, his features were handsome, silky dark hair carefully parted and pushed back, and full lips. Black, floppy ears equally as polished blended in with his dark hair. All hounds you had met so far had a more rugged appearance, scared and tattered from the action, yet he had none. You don’t know why but that unsettled you. When your gaze finally reached his eyes you found the familiar rugged tension as they were boring forward and technical in tension. His gaze peeled from the Director’s to yours as he finally lowered his salute.

The General stepped forth patting him on the shoulder, “Y/L/N I want to introduce you to Officer Park. He’s under your care now.”

You meet his eyes, the dark brown orbs, carefully analyze you as you are sure you portray the same tone. You held his eyes as you stood up, and soon it was clear he towered over you. You felt the need to state your presence. You took his extended hand and the callouses and thick fingers nearly engulfed your hand.

“Do you have your belongings Officer Park?”

He pulled his hand back and folded them behind his back lacing with his other, “Yes, Sir.”

The Director turned to you and smiled, “Goodbye, Agent Y/L/N.”

Your mouth was left clenched as you politely gestured and began walking out of the door assuming he would follow you. You heard the heavy boots trail after you as the door shut behind him.

This…this wasn’t how you expected things to go.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pushing open the front door with a bit of a huff, stepping inside you flicked on the light switch. When the Director said he would be under your care you didn’t think literally. You thought he’d be at his barracks and he would just be present during work hours. You had realized quickly that he was meant literally under your care, under your household, you were in charge…of his care. You glanced over your shoulder and saw him walking tight-lipped from the driveway with his duffle bag. He walked as if he was marching, legs stiff and hair barely bouncing. His gaze was the most daunting, sharp and cold. Shaking the thought you shifted topics mentally. You couldn’t be afraid of him. He was your hound. You’d have to go back tomorrow probably to collect the rest of his stuff.

You hooked your keys on the key rack. Stepping inside holding the door open for him you hurriedly defend your home. “I haven’t been home in a few months, so I’m sorry for the dust and the mess.”

He nodded in a curt motion. You toed off your shoes and placed them on their rack. He stood politely not too far from you awaiting direction. You weren’t sure how this was going to work. You had a guest room, but it was mostly unused office space. With the door closed, it was quiet, you could only hear your awkward breathing. The tension in the atmosphere was heavy as you didn’t know really what to do next. You rounded him nearly flattening yourself against the wall avoiding touching him as he nearly took up the whole entryway. “Uhm, will you…will you give me a minute? Just make yourself at home.” You sped off before you had a chance to see his reaction.

Quickly you dropped your stuff off in your room and stood there for a moment. Your bed was made just like you left it, your robe was still draped over the bench at the end of your bed. Everything was as it seemed, but it didn’t feel—nothing felt normal. You rubbed over your left arm and the soreness responded. Yes, this was real. You…you had a hound. Retreating you crossed the hall to the guest bedroom. You flicked on the lights and the room was nearly bare, furnished from your college budget. There was a full bed only a plain white sheet over it to protect the mattress. The end table, desk, and dresser were all covered in a fine layer of dust. The walls were bare, but the rest of your house was similar. Ever since you’ve moved in you’ve spent more time at headquarters or on missions. This was more of a hotel than a home.

You pulled the sheet off and speed across the hall and tossed it in the washing machine, then you dug into the cupboard. Do you even have any other sheets that are full size? Your bed is a king. Maybe you should just use the sheet you put in the wash. No, what if he wanted to rest? Finding another white sheet, you hopped to pull it off the top of the stack. You hissed as you reached up straining your injury as it burned to remind you of its existence.

A hand was placed gently on your back preventing you from tipping backward. Gasping under your breath you turned your head as he reached for the sheet you were attempting to grab. He was nearly pressed up against you, but the notion dissolved before you had time to register it happened. He held it out to you as you thanked him. Quietly he followed you to the room. Again you unfolded it but haphazardly flapped it about as your arm throbbed. Cautiously and silently he took it from you seeing you struggle again. He began making the bed.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you could handle it. You really could. You nodded rubbing your hand over your forearm. It felt odd. All of this was so sudden. Heading back to the cupboard you were able to pull the extra comforter out. It was a fluffy, white down nearly engulfing you as it was meant for your bed. You went into your room and took a pillow off your bed. You stood at the door as he tucked in the last corner of the bed and he stood at attention heels pressed. You carefully set the pillow and comforter on top of the bed and began unfolding it. Easily he helped as he finished the last few tugs.

You stood there staring at the down, as he awaited you. You were used to being in charge, you fell into the role of leadership easily, but this, this was a different kind of responsibility. Something caught your eye for a split second, you were sure you caught his tail wagging behind him before it stilled just as fast. “There is a bathroom right next door for you to use. The kitchen is free for you to use and eat anything you like.”

He nodded.

It was an odd pause as you waited for him to fill the silence, say something, but he was a statue.

Pursing your lips you spoke, “Officer Park, I don’t know the first thing about hybrids or hounds. If you’re uncomfortable here, we can always get you your place, eventually, I’m sure you will want to anyways. For the time being, let’s,” you held your hand out to him, “get along.”

His expression tightened if possible. He looked from your hand to your face and stepped forward taking your outstretched hand in a curt shake. You pulled the hand clutching it and nodded, “That’s settled then.” Slowly you began backing out. “I’ll let you get settled in. Good night.”

He nodded standing there still as you backed out and went into your room. Closing the door behind you you slumped against your door.

How did you end up here?

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You rotated your shoulder dispelling the tension from sleeping. As you rounded the corner into your living room you paused in your steps as you made eye contact with Park. Yes. It took you a moment to remember. You were in charge of another being. He was sitting on the couch fully dressed, as he was wearing the same clothing he was yesterday. Your mind was still awakening from the haze of sleep. Didn’t he bring a duffle bag with him? How long had he been awake? You squinted at the clock on the wall as it read out 7:30 am. You were still in your sweats and long sleeve pajamas. You felt underdressed in your own home. Slightly nodding towards him as a form of greeting he returned the gesture stiffly. You moved to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge and it was stark clean. It was as if you had just purchased it. You searched the cupboards and it was the same, except for a single random can of beans.

You came back out and stood at the entrance of the kitchen. “Officer Park.”

He stood up hearing his name and hovered by the edge of the couch.

“I don’t have any food here. I’m going to call for delivery,” you paused suddenly remembering, “later, we can pick up the rest of your things from the barracks while we are out.”

“I have everything I own with me, Miss.”

Hearing his voice was jarring as the only time you remember hearing it was yesterday when you first met. His voice was softer and melodic in comparison to his exterior. For a rottweiler, his ears were more Doberman like as they were perked. Belatedly you then realize they were docked, probably for safety purposes.

Everything? You refrained shifting your expression, the last thing he needed was pity. You carefully prodded. “Park, is that your only change of clothes?”

He nodded confidently. “Yes, Miss.”

His only pair of clothing? You anticipated that he’d have more at least a personal blanket, a trinket, something. The Director’s words echoed in your ear from last night. “Hybrid’s lives are disposable, yours isn’t.”

Anger fills you as you process it all. You’d expect the government to treat them well, yet they treated them like they were–disposable. Rubbing your left arm, you paused soaking in your thoughts at the small realization. If he only had one pair of clothes, exactly how was he living before?

He sensed your unease. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. Did his lack of items upset you? He didn’t know how he could correct his error.

Licking your lips, you moved forward to head back down towards the hallway. “Let me get dressed I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and stood there with the same blank expression. Seeing the lack of response, you smartened up and turned on the T.V and handed him the remote. “Watch something while I’m gone, I shouldn’t be too long. Food will be here soon.”

He analyzed the control as if it was something alien. You slipped behind the wall over the hallway. Making a motion you pointed behind you, “I’ll be back.”

He stared up from his standing position, his knee jerked until he straightened it to place. “Yes, Miss.”

——----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You spent longer in the shower than you had anticipated. The warmth of the water was soothing, and you felt the painful kinks leave you. Before you got in the shower you called the café and placed an order. After your shower, you dressed for the day. The doorbell rang as you were toweling off your hair. You grabbed your wallet and headed towards the door. As you rounded towards the door, Park was crouching and hoovering by the front door. Before you could move further Park growled viciously, and it sent a chill down your spine. “Miss, stay back! Intruder.”

You quirked a brow before you understood what was going on. You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath before you smothered it. “Park, step down.”

He tensed, hesitant on obeying your command. You repeated yourself, but it was followed by a breathy chuckle. He couldn’t understand why you laughed; this was serious. An unfamiliar person was on the other side of the door! He had to protect!

You pushed past his blockade, but he was hot on your trail, body tense and ready the second something goes wrong. You opened the door a scrawny teen held a large plastic bag. His voice cracked as he held out the receipt, “Whoa, dude, ugh—de-delivery for Y/n.”

You smiled ignoring his other commentary. “That’s me.” You gave him the money and a tip as you exchanged the bag from the kid. You waved ensuring he got back to his car safely as the teen practically ran back to his car. Shrugging you turning around in to get a face full of a hardened chest that was flexing as he heaved with each rumble. Your eyes widened as you jumped back nearly tripping. His fangs were out and you realized they started high up in his gums. His ears were perked forward and eyes were darkened as he looked feral. You finally realized why the teen’s hand was trembling, the stuttering, and practically running back to his car. His being sent another chill down your spine when he looked down at you, but you gulped it back. You couldn’t be afraid of your officer.

Putting on a smile you reassured him, “It’s okay, it’s just the delivery guy.”

As you closed the door his neck was nearly stretched, veins protruding in his neck as he watched the beat-up Honda Civic drive off before you shut the door.

He encroached the door and stared out the small window. Yes, just moments ago you were spooked, but then it hit you. He was kind of silly, he was acting like a real guard dog. Especially when his shoulders slightly jumped as you could tell he was building up a bark that left in quiet huffs. You couldn’t help biting your lip to suppress the laugh again. For someone who looked like a mafia boss, he was being fussy about a delivery boy. You did a double-take as you realized there was a small nub that was slightly wagging within his pants. He had a tail? You tilted your head watching it wag before you realized you were staring at his butt. Which was plump, but that wasn’t the point! How could you stare! You quickly looked away and began your trek to the living room.

Cooling down the flush that had begun to creep up your neck, you called him, “Park, he’s gone, it’s okay.” You crouched down as you set the bag of food on the coffee table. Fishing out the trays you went into the kitchen to grab some drinks. Looking over your shoulder Park still stood frozen in the entryway halfway between leaning to you and glancing out the window. This time you couldn’t contain your laughter, yup, he was kind of silly. “Come on, eat.”

His brows raised at the tinkling sound of your laugh. His ears twitched at the soft sound, it almost quelled him completely as the sound danced around in his chest. He…liked that sound. However, he wasn’t one to forget his role. Glancing back at the door once, he carefully walked over to you robotically. Standing there you pointed to the couch, “Sit.” As soon as the words left your mouth you realized that sounded like a command for an actual dog you changed your wording. “Please take a seat. I don’t know what you like, so I just got you the same thing that I get. It’s good I promise.” It struck you, you spun in your spot, “Do you have any food allergies?”

His eyes were wide as saucers, “No, Miss.”

Sighing in relief you handed him a tray that he took graciously with two hands. “Bon appetit.”

You sat comfortably on the floor and opened your tray revealing the savory breakfast bagel sandwich. This was one of the first things you had wanted ever since you came back. Bringing it to your mouth you were in heaven as you took the first bite, savoring all the breakfast essentials.

Park was staring at you the whole time, watching the way you casually ate.

You turned to him and realized he still hadn’t opened his food. Your smile fell, “What’s wrong, is it not what you like?”

His ears perked up, eyes wide as he shook his head, “No, It’s alright, Miss.” He slid down onto the floor next to you. You watched as he finally popped open as you took a bite of your sandwich. The tip of his pink tongue peeked out as he picked up the sandwich. He looked at you, then he took a small bite before he paused as if he was paralyzed. The flavors danced on his tongue and it was near euphoria. He had never tasted something so flavorful and delicious. The only thing he had ever been fed back in the labs was supplemental meals in pellets or slop that was just an off shade of brown.

You watched his expression carefully, afraid he would hate it, but who could hate breakfast sandwiches? Suddenly his eyes gleamed as the edges creased in an eye smile. He ravenously began devouring the sandwich in large bites noisily. His hands were empty within seconds except for crumbs as he sucked on his thumbs getting all the savory oil. His tail was wagging fast as his pants made soft rustling sounds. You couldn’t help it, a giggle spilled as you watched his reaction. A hot blush covered his cheeks as he stared at you with a finger in his mouth. The sound again that was like a call to something internal within him beckoned him to look at you. That sound…he couldn’t understand why you were laughing. Nothing funny had happened.

He looked gentile for the first time since his arrival as his eyes sparkled wide. You wondered how he could do that go from looking so terrifying to so gentle you couldn’t believe he’d hurt a fly.

You had the great idea of getting extra; you took the empty tray and replaced it with the empty tray. He shook his head trying to place it back, “No, I’m fine Miss.”

You placed it back in his lap, “Please, I got more than enough. Eat.”

You turned back to your meal and the TV finally paying attention to what was on. He looked back and forth between you and the tray, squirming in his seat. He wanted to eat, but it was too much. His stomach believed otherwise, but he would be fine if he ignored it like he usually did. It was more than he’s ever been offered. Were you testing him? Yet, you weren’t turning around. Your body language wasn’t tense. Carefully he popped the tray open, he gazed at you, waiting for a reaction, but you kept chewing. He picked up the sandwich and began eating, a little faster than necessary in case you changed your mind at any point. He’d deal with the consequences later. Eating so fast he began choking as he swallowed nearly the whole sandwich down.

Rapidly you poured him a glass of water and handed him the glass, “Here drink this!”

He took it and drank the whole glass, sighing in relief as he cleared his throat. When he finally was all right he couldn’t look you in the eye, embarrassed with himself. He waited for his punishment, tensing his body for the hit.

You smiled, realizing his tray was empty again. You looked at the tray and realized he was clenching his fist until they were turning white. A sadness overcame you that had him whining as he scented the shift in you. You reached into the bag and pulled out yet another sandwich. You gently replaced the empty one with another, his fist still tight. Softly you assured him, “You don’t have to eat so fast; no one is going to steal your food. I won’t ever keep food from you.”

Although it felt odd to say it, you wanted to assure him. You wanted him to be comfortable. This was going to be your life from now on. Park was going to always be a part of your life whether you liked it or not. He was your hound.

He was your hound.

On a sigh, you spoke words you never thought you’d be saying. “This is your home too.” You brushed your still slightly wet hair from your face when he remained stoic, face recessing back into a neutral blank.

As you rustled your hair your sweet scent filled the air. He realized how sweet it was as you rustled back as it filtered the air erasing the small sadness that was there before. It was intoxicating as he waited for it to be ruined by a foul scent that usually accompanied lying. Yet, it stayed sweet, it had been since he had met you.

You licked your lips and nodded assuming that was the end of the conversation. If there was one thing you learned through your training as an agent is patience. He’d speak when he’d want to. You knew space and you’d want the same. Just as this has been a lot for you, you can only imagine how stressful this must have been for him. Maybe you needed the silence to answer more than you could want words from him.

He stared at the cardboard top of the tray. He rubbed his thumbs over the paper feeling the small ridges. This was real. He blinked as he couldn’t place the feeling. He had never felt something like this before. It made him squint his eyes, it bothered him he couldn’t understand the feeling.

“Okay, Miss.”

You were surprised at the sound of his voice that came almost too quiet. You offered him a smile to let him know you heard him. He stared at you with eyes that were swirling with emotions as his ears swiveled slightly. Clearing your throat, there was a lot you had to learn. Oddly, you settled into a comfortable relaxation. You forgot about your arm. You forgot about why Park was being sprung into your life. The failure, the politics, it all.

A halo of light glows around you as he found himself staring at you. He reached up and rubbed over his chest, that odd feeling had been swirling around for a while now. It was probably the need to protect you. Protect…his…home now. This…was…his—his thoughts were cut off by the sound of your laughter again as you laughed at something on T.V. He followed your line of sight and to your face as your face scrunched up as you lingered in whatever was funny.

He clutched the tray in his hands. Yes, that must be what he’s feeling. It must be that. He will protect you.

You somehow fell asleep somewhere between the episodes of some sitcom you didn’t know the name of played. You woke up on the couch and Park was still sitting on the floor watching whatever was on TV. Lightly blushing, he must’ve placed you on the couch. Not dwelling on that fact, you wiped the sleep out of your eye as you looked at the clock and it was just a bit past noon.

You sat up straight and Park turned around to look at you hearing the rustling.

You joked, “Hello.” He nodded his head.

“Sorry for falling asleep.” He shook his head to disagree.

The coffee table had been cleaned. You thanked him for it and his tail wagged again before he tempered it. Getting up and stretching you winced and hissed when you realize you had been sleeping on your left arm.

He stood up immediately, “Miss are you okay?”

You waved it off, “I must’ve slept funny, that’s all.” Rotating your arm, you released the tension in your shoulder, but it was sore still as you lowered it.

He didn’t believe you. He noticed you were awkward with your left arm as you always were caressing and cradling it. Before he could comment you moved past him. You sighed internally realizing that you needed to head to the store for groceries. You couldn’t keep ordering take out. In the kitchen, you dug in your junk drawer and got out a notebook and began writing a list. Knocking the pen against your chin you tried to think of anything you’re missing after jotting down the basics. You went back to the living room, sitting down on the floor again and letting the notepad rest on the coffee table. “Park, what do you need at the store?”

He shook his head.

You quirked a brow, “Please, tell me what you need. I want you to be comfortable.”

He hung his head low, in a whisper you barely caught onto, “There’s hybrid soap that’s unscented. That’s it.”

You raised a brow, “That’s it?”

He nodded.

“Okay.” You ripped the page out and stuffed the list into your purse. Slipping on your shoes, “I’ll be right back. I’ll just be a bit.”

He stood up immediately alarmed. “I will go with you. I need to stay with you.”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms across your chest, “It’s just shopping. I can handle myself.” He was poking at a sore spot. You could handle yourself. You can handle yourself. He stood chest puffed in full seriousness. The same assurance he had before with the delivery boy returned.

“I’m okay on my own.”

“I will go.”

Realizing you were arguing with the wall you swallowed your pride. This. This was something you were going to have to learn to deal with. You were going to learn how to be a “team” and work with another. Chanting to yourself, you reminded yourself this was a learning process. “Fine, come on.”

Quickly he slipped his boots on and you unhooked your keys and closed the door behind him.

image  
Putting the car into park it struck you. The whole car ride he had been quiet, the soft hum of music playing from the radio had filled the silence. Before getting out of the car you turned to him, “Hey, are you okay going around shopping?”

He turned to you, “Yes, Miss.”

You cringed internally at the formality he had been calling you Miss this whole time. But you respected it, it would probably feel more awkward using first names.

It felt stupid but you felt the need to remind him, “Please don’t growl at anyone, unless they’re a real threat okay?” You wanted to let him know, “If it ever is too much, let me know. We can leave at any point.”

He nodded, lips slightly pouting, and you both got out of the car.

Stepping into the store you carefully side-eyed Park and his eyes were telling a different story as he was searching nearly everyone for threat. You decided to let him do whatever made him comfortable, even if it was glaring at everyone. You pulled out a shopping cart and picked up everything off your list including some things that weren’t. More things weren’t on your list than were, but who were you to deny your love for the good stuff. You watched Park if he took an interest in anything, but he was natural and bleak about it all.

You stopped in the hybrid section. Scattered through the store there had been a few, but truly you noticed other hybrids with their owners in this section. There were all types of rabbits, feline or canine hybrids. Before yesterday you never really noticed them, it all was normalcy, now with Park, you felt more aware. When you passed them with Park you noticed them freeze and divert their eyes from him. The rabbit hybrid nearly tugged its owner out of the aisle. You felt bad for them, but you both had the right to be there just as much as everyone else. Some other canines dared to stare at him before they were yanked away. Okay, maybe Park wasn’t the one you should be worried about. He hovered over you, shoulders back and chest puffed. You called to Park, distracting him momentarily from staring down others. “Choose whatever you need.”

The selection was near bare, except for the essentials. He glanced back frequently as he selected his soap. You watched other owners with heir hybrids, they were selecting more than just bar soap. When he came back with a bar that was in a basic box you smiled at him, wanting to be sure to always encourage this behavior of making his own choice. “Are you sure?” He nodded and he immediately reverted to his guard stance. You asked him to place it in the cart and then you walked over to where the other hybrids and their owners just were and began picking the scarcest products off the shelf. It must mean they’re good and popular.

“Miss?”

“Yes?” You placed a bottle down as the side was dented and picked up one in better condition.

He looked between you and the products. “What are you doing, Miss?”

You glanced at him, “Do you like,” you popped open the lid of the shampoo refreshed by the clean scent, “this one?”

He took it from you and placed it back on the shelf. “I’m fine.”

You picked up the shampoo back and placed it in the cart and carried on. He sighed and followed along as you kept picking up things like a brush, fur shine conditioner, vitamin tablets, a loofah, and a toothbrush. He had remained quiet the whole time and as rounded the corner there was a very small selection of basic clothing. You recalled back to his confession earlier and the idea saddens you at your ignorance. It struck you that last night he must’ve slept in the same clothes he was in now. You held up sweats and a shirt up to him he stiffened as your hands were nearly touching him. You hummed when you were content with the sizing before you picked up more and placed them in the cart. Pointing to underwear and socks, “You can pick those yourself.” He fidgeted on the spot as if he was glued. You decided to pinch a little, “Or do you want me to pick them?” He unglued himself from his spot and he tossed in a package of each reluctantly. You smiled at him at your small victory. This would have to do, for now, you’d order things online later.

He still stood protectively over you, but at some point, you had ignored the feeling of his hovering. You could feel how uncomfortable he was. Your hand itched to reach out and settle him, but you weren’t sure how comfortable he would be with that either.

“You can have things to Park.” You turned to him, with a softness that had him relaxing, “I’m happy to get it for you. I want to do this for you.”

His tail wagged as you began carting away.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Opening up your mailbox you pulled out the mail then shoved open the door with bags and mail in your hand. Waddling to the kitchen with the bags you set them down as Park came just behind you with his arms full of the remaining bags. The top of his head barely peeking above the bags. Your eyes widened as you helped him place the rest of the bags down. You could handle heavyweight, but you didn’t want to accelerate joint pain and destroy the recovery you’ve made so far. He seemed completely unaffected though.

He stood patiently again as you turned to him, realizing he was awaiting a command. You cleared your throat as you grabbed bags. You found the bags holding his products. You handed them off to him. He hesitated as he nearly set the bags down, “Let me help. Tell me what to do.”

You waved him away, “It’s alright, I got it. Why don’t you take a shower? I’m sure you feel gross after a long day. Do you need help figuring that out?”

Again, he found himself conflicted. He couldn’t sense the duplicity in your tone. He waited for you to yell at him. Waited for you to shout commands, punish him for being useless, something, yet you stood up and stared at him with eyes that nearly smiled on their own. He was stunned at the way you looked at him. Gently you picked up his bags and handed it to him, “You can put your stuff away and the clothing you got on now put them in the wash. You remember from yesterday right? You can pick out just an outfit then the rest can go in the wash.”

You shooed him off when he stood there dumbfounded. Taking your statement as final he picked up his bags and disappeared around the corner.

You sighed a bit in relief, an ache left in its wake. You hadn’t realized how tense you were all day. Taking care of someone else was exhausting. The way he was looking at you was confusing. It was like he was expecting something, but you weren’t sure what. Instead of dwelling on the what-ifs, you sorted all the groceries. It was odd seeing your home full of food. You never had this much food before. You always made instant food when it was just yourself. You folded all the plastic bags into one and placed them in a bin by the front door. Coming back you glanced around the kitchen, then picked up the mail.

You shifted through it as the majority of it was junk mail with a few exceptions of bills. Stuffing it into the wall rack for your mail you were cautious to separate the bills from junk.

Your phone begins vibrating in your pocket. You read the caller ID, 000, and your face hardened. You answered and a distorted voice spoke, “Report tomorrow at 0700 for a new assignment.” There was a click and the call was over. Sighing heavily you tossed your phone on the counter uncaring if it cracked the screen. You leaned on the counter, elbowed supporting your head as you run your fingers through your hair. You clutched your head, breathing through your nose.

He came out of the corner, his hair slightly dripping wet as he toweled off his ears. His face scrunched up in disgust, it smelled sour. It was from you, clutching the towel he rounded the corner as you were standing back up. Your face was slightly flushed, and your eyes held this look of exhaustion. The smile had disappeared from you. He dropped his towel as he marched over to you, “Miss, is everything alright? Did I do something wrong? I knew I should’ve helped you. I'm—.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as he nearly rushed you. Realizing your position you laughed it off, and quiet his resolve, although your voice isn’t as strong as you wish it could’ve been. “No, I’m fine, It’s fine.” He didn’t believe you as he carefully looked over your face.

You realized his hair was dripping. You picked up the towel from the floor and tiptoed slightly as you rustled the towel over his hair. “Don’t walk around with wet hair, it’s cold out. You can’t be catching a cold.” You were careful of his ears.

He froze on the spot.

When you pulled away, your smile had returned. He was staring directly at you, nearly inches apart, eyes wide. Your heart skipped a beat. You took in his jawline, tawny skin that was slowly turning rosy and his pupils dilating. Realizing your position and what you had done you dropping the towel and it draped over him like a ghost. He whined as you laughed going towards the fridge. You try to cover your embarrassment by acting normal, “Dry your hair with the dryer next time.” You opened up the fridge, “Let’s eat.”

One ear popping out he pulled the towel back he stepped forward, “Let me help Miss.” His cheeks were rosy, and you sure yours was too.

Surrendering to his eagerness your cave, “Okay.”

Surprisingly Park was a great cook. You gave him simple instructions to cut vegetables and they were sliced and diced neatly. You thanked him as you slid them off into the pan. The house filled with the smell of stir fry and just in time the rice cooker jingled as you turned off the burner.

“Can you get some plates, please? It’s in the left cabinet.”

He nodded and set two plates beside you. With your good hand, you scooped food onto the plates. When they were filled, he took them to the table without propagation. You fished inside the fridge for some cold water and the drawers for utensils and brought that to the table with you.

Looking at the table with steaming plates Jimin stood by the table waiting for you. You set the water down and utensils and sat down. Your eyes glowed as you stared at the food. You picked up your fork and began poking at your food and shoved it in your mouth. You’re a few bites in before you realized he was sitting across the table food untouched. He picked up his fork and began eating after you had taken your first bites.

You wanted to know more, you wanted to understand why. The report the Director gave was bare-bones, but you could inquire enough. You had been on a mission before countless times, analyzed war criminals, and more, but this felt out of reach. If you were going to keep Park then you wanted to know more. There was no better way of getting information than just asking. You swallowed your food then asked, “Park, may I ask you something?”

His body tensed slightly as he swallowed and answered formally, “Yes, Miss.”

While shopping today you did your shallow research as you watched those with hybrids of their own. All hybrids had something around their necks, collars, like chokers around their neck. You casually inquired, “Do hybrids wear…collars?”

“It’s a sign of identification and ownership.”

You quirked your brow, “Do you have one.”

He pulled out from his shirt dog tags on a silver ball chain. You nodded at it and kept poking at your food. The biggest question sitting at the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t ask it. Instead, you choose to look him over. “Do you like your new clothes? Do they fit right?”

He nodded rapidly, “Yes, Miss.”

They looked comfortable as they fit him a bit oversized, but it would give him wiggle room.

He finished his meal and stood from the table taking it to the sink. You followed shortly after with your dish. He fidgeted on the spot before he thanked you for the meal. Shutting off the water and drying your hands on the towel rack you leaned against the counter.

“Park.”

He paused and robotically turned and stood at attention at the entrance of the kitchen. You looked down then back up at him, “New assignment—for us, meeting tomorrow at headquarters. Be up early.”

His posture stiffens. As his hands began clutching at his sweatpants. He nodded then rounded about the corner slipping into his room.

You flicked off the kitchen light as you signed, why did that feel so heavy? You massaged your arm as you walked to your room. That night you laid in bed doing a bit of research on hybrid things. You browsed for a few hours shopping for things that others recommended. You bought clothes varying from dark in color to light unsure of where his palate was. You guess the size going for the larger size for safety and it possibly shrinking in the dryer. You’d rather him be comfortable than enclosed in his clothes. Checking out you bought a list full of things, but you don’t spend your paycheck on yourself, so you placed it in your cart without a second thought. He deserved it.

You shut your laptop and thought about the hound sleeping in the next room over. Was he sleeping alright? You heavily sigh allowing your body to sink into your bed. You were going to have a long day tomorrow and you needed your sleep. Closing your eyes you had a million thoughts going, but the main one was of the hound in the room over.

You just had to hold out for tomorrow.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Your next mission agent is to be the personal guard the governor on his trip to the capitol from the airport. He will be arriving from the capital after receiving an acknowledgment from the president and we expect a lot of eyes to be on him.”

Your blood boiled internally. This was a job meant for a mid-rank agent, not you. Yet, you tried to sound eager, “Yes, Sir.”

He smiled, it felt so greasy. “Your mission starts in three months upon his arrival.”

“Understood, Sir.”

He looked towards Jimin who stood at the edge of the room at attention. The Director smiled, “Park, is Y/l/n treating you well?”

“I’m content Sir.”

The Director looked at you, “I knew this was a great idea. You are much better off with him.”

He stood up and you followed along clenching your jaw. “Thank you, Sir.”

As you were walking away. “Agent Y/L/N.”

You turned on your heel completely facing him. “No more mistakes.”

Your face was hard set, yet pleasant enough. Park noticed your fist clenching as you crossed them behind your back.

“Understood Sir.”

Park followed along silently. He could smell the change in your scent—it was ruining the sweetness. You stood in front of the elevators and pressed the down button. Park waited behind you, standing tall. He had no idea why you were uncomfortable. He found the Director behavior odd. What had he meant by making a mistake?

When the elevator opened you stepped in and immediately into the floor panel you punched in the code 45730 harder than necessary. For a second the elevator stalled, then it began dropping down. The elevator went beyond the parking garage basement as it continued to drop. Jimin’s eyes watched, internally reading himself for anything.

Without saying anything you stepped out of the elevator he followed you to an internal door. You scanned your ID before you stamped your finger to go inside. Jimin scanned his dog tags and was allowed inside behind you.

As the door whorled open with an electrical buzzer sounding off, a sudden bang introduced you both to the gym. Flashes of light caught his attention as he looked into glass rooms. The rooms each were unique and technical as digital screens were projected in the air with stats while within the room holographic simulations of hostile scenarios played as agents trained. You kept marching like you were running to a fire. He only caught glimpses of the intense training going on, monitoring their movements in those split seconds. The arena opened up and agents were firing off in succession as they shot down the range. Seeing rows of stations, he realized you had brought him to a gun range.

You rotated your left shoulder. You stepped up to a station and placed your hand on top of the glass desk. The monitor glowed blue as a digital screen popped up. “Put your hand on the glass Park.” He followed along, and the desk expanded into a dual station. His information appeared on the screen alongside yours. Selection of weapons appeared next, “Pick what you want to use.”

He went through and selected a handgun like yourself. The proper wear appeared on the right wall of the station. The guns were simultaneously present from the walls.

After having the debriefing, you found yourself feeling wound up. You wanted to prove yourself again, prove you were good enough. The drudging task he gave you, protecting the newly elected governor, was for the rookies. Grabbing it you inspected it thoroughly. You shook out your left hand. The guns weren’t typical, although they recoil, sound and weighed as much as a real one, they weren’t.

You didn’t meet eyes with Park as you spoke, “I’m sure you’ve done this before.”

He had. Too many times to count. He had spent a lot of time in ranges, less modern than this. He remembers when he was a young pup and he stood at the other end of the rage facing the abysmal barrel. Officers commanded the older hounds with real guns. It was a miss and survive. A test for all.

He was brought to the present when the holographic screen began changing as infographics and widgets displayed difficulty levels, strategy, and intensity. Selecting a random high-performance program you reached over and pressed the approval for his side of the dual station to fully expand to accommodate you both. His eyes followed the station walls as they moved and widened a few feet. Your eye twitched as you brought your arms up finger away from the trigger as you tightened your hips.

“Ready yourself, Park.”

Selecting random the widget flipped through until it stopped on the hostage situation. A short debriefing appeared on the screen, entailing the scenario. Your shoulders tightened, a thing you learned to never due, and the motion caused you to wince as you felt the muscle tug around your injury. You were fine. You were fine.

Situation: A bank robbery and the civilians inside and employees are being held, hostage. Save the hostages.

As soon as the countdown began on the screen from three, two, one, the bank doors opened, and fake comrades joined you both as you enter. Five criminals circulate the main lobby as they surround hostages piled in the middle. The simulation was interactive, and it expected you to act accordingly. Slipping into your roll you commanded, “Drop the weapons and get down!”

Park held his position as his gun was raised defensively mirroring your stance.

The criminals laughed simulated jargon of them arguing and they refused to place down their weapons. You repeated your commands and they still refused. You scanned the room again, analyzing the exits, windows, and corners, there weren’t many options, but the desk offered refuge. Counting the seven hostages surrounded by the five criminals, the odds of getting the robbers away were slim. But the margin of possibility was where you thrived.

“Park, on my mark.”

Just like you had predicted the robber facing you reacted hotly by grabbing a hostage and holding a gun to their temple. “I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”

You continued, “Release the hostage, no one has to get hurt. Put down your weapons!” You slightly nodded but Park had caught it as the mark.

The robber’s hand trembled with anger before he threw the hostage and began unleashed rounds at you. Screams and sounds of chaos erupted. The other criminals began targeting the other commanders. Your eyes worked a million miles an hour as you dodged bullets moving forward behind the wall. Park was opposite of you, finding a shield in the opposing wall.

When the sound of gunshots paused you took the chance and shot at the criminals.

“Park, right!”

He let a few rounds out, both successful as they land their targets. The hostages scream and run towards you but disappeared as they simulate running past you.

A robber appeared next to you as you fired at their extremities. Death is never the goal, inebriation is. Assassination isn’t a solution. The bank begins shifting into the warehouse as you panted, breathing faster and faster. Seeing the lone chair and a man with a gun pointed at you took form. A slow smirk built on their face as their finger shifted to be over the trigger and they pulled. You had been so lost in thought you forget what was going on. Suddenly you were pushed back as he stood in front of you. His side of the screen flashed red. He had been shot, kill shot to the chest

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped. “PARK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, “Protecting you.”

You gazed at him, shock filtered, again those words ring clear in your ears: hounds are disposable. Bile built in your throat. If this was real, he would’ve been dead. You failed Park. You…failed, again.

Panic filled your heart creeping like an icy cold grip and your hand began to tremble. Your face was stone cold, but inside a storm was brewing.

Boisterous laughter filtered through and broke you from your beginning hysteria. They snorted at the end of their sinister laughter, bringing their hand up to cover their mouth. You pulled your trembling hand behind you as you turned and Jimin looked over your shoulder.

Eyeing you up and down and then Park a snarky smirk plastered on her lips as they stride closer to you both. “Ah, Y/L/N, you finally got one.” Her eyes stared at Park for a moment longer than necessary. Subtly you shifted yourself in front of him. “I see the Director finally recognized that you weren’t perfect.” Her lips pulled higher. Agent Smith had been in the federation longer than you have. Her father was from the same fraternity as the Deputy Director. She let everyone know proudly where she came from and how she knew people in high places. Instantly you were rivals after she opened her mouth. However, during training, she was one of your main motives for climbing the ladder. You were better than some rich girl with connections. Proudly you climbed to your position on your own, no family, no friends, just you.

It’s always been that way anyway.

Finding yourself on steady grounds, pushing nausea aside, you smirked back sweetly. Setting your gun down, “I’m glad your back safe Smith. Your last mission was watching that rich girl from Montenegro, right? How was it playing a shopping assistant?”

Her smirk didn’t deter. “Assistant? Please. At least I didn’t fail. Daddy told me all about how the Director said you were a failure. You couldn’t handle a simple rescue mission. Makes me concerned for the rest of us.”

She cut deep and quick. Park next to you listened to it all, quickly glancing at you. He hadn’t heard of this. He wasn’t told why he was now your hound. He could feel you change though. It was unsettling him.

Quick on your feet, “The only concern you should have is if Daddy is going to buy you another spot on a mission. How much did your Daddy pay for your last mission?” It was petty. This was petty, out of character. Today wasn’t your day.

Her face blistered with anger. “You bitch! I wish they left you in Victiz to die in that cell.”

Park growled, a rolling growl. Her eyes widened in surprise like yours. Park’s eyes were jet black, he appeared like a feral beast encroaching over you with his presence. His fangs were exposed as his lips pulled back. He made no motion forward, but Smith knew if she moved offensively, he would act. Realizing she was out of her reach, Smith flinched as she corrected herself rolling her eyes pretending it didn’t bother her. You hadn’t realized her hound was behind her. Stomping away she picked a station leaving you standing there with Park.

You hadn’t realized her hound had been with her as he stared at you both with wide eyes.

“Cerberus.” The name came shakily out of the hound, their doe eyes staring, body frozen. “Yo-you’re alive.” The word came out as a whisper. The hound didn’t get say more as Smith snapped calling the hounds attention. Without another word, the hound booked it, tail between his legs.

Park watched the hound with careful eyes. Your mind was elsewhere, desperately swallowing anger. You turned back to the monitor as it blared out “Mission Failed.” You were too embarrassed to look at him. You were ashamed of yourself. You had never acted that way. You never let her get under your skin. The last comment stung like a slap across your face. Who was this person you’ve become? You shut it down quickly, setting all things back appropriately.

“We’re leaving.” You commanded stiffly.

He watched you for a few moments as you held your left arm as you walked away. Setting his gear down he began after you.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The house was dark, yet you didn’t bother flicking on the lights as you took off your shoes in the entryway. The quiet ride home had let your though mull over. You were so disappointed with yourself. Words from the director, Smith, you could handle hers, but…Park, when he took the bullet for you—it was all too much. You were fatigued, your arm was ebbing in pain. “I’m going to sleep.” Without further explanation, you rounded the corner and went into your room.

He stood there in the entryway, the darkness feeling suffocating as you walked away. He couldn’t understand why you were so upset. He couldn’t understand why you screamed at him when he took the bullet for you. Why was that woman yelling at you, he couldn’t control it when she said you should die in that cell. He was going to protect you. You would never die as long as he was around. Where did he go wrong? If his ears could flatten, they would. If his tail could hide between his legs, it would be. He messed up, again.

He found his feet moving before he was aware of it. He wanted to reach out. His feet were moving fast until he felt a surging pain followed by a crunch on the hardwood floor. Retracting back he realized it was your ID. Picking it up he stared at it, the person in the ID looked so cold, so frigid, similar to how you looked now. It made his insides itch uncomfortably, it felt wrong. That you felt wrong.

Clutching it in his fist he walked through the darkness, eyes adjusted for it, and he stood in front of your door. He could hear your soft breathes, but your heart was beating fast. The tainted scent that was normally sweet was nearly rolling from under your door like smoke. He clutched your ID in his hand tight enough that the edge of the plastic badge dug into his skin.

Soft knocks rapped at your door. It took you a moment before you answered. Park was standing at the door staring at you directly. It felt like time had slowed before his fist unclenched and he held out your ID. You took it from him staring down at it. All your energy had been sapped from you and in barely a whisper, “Thank you.”

His tongue poked through his thick lips as he opened his mouth but he clamped it shut quickly. He began turning on his heel heading back to his room.

“Park.” Guilt ate at you.

He paused and turned robotically.

Clenching your ID. “I don’t want you to ever take a bullet for me.” His eyebrows perked. “You are not disposable, especially not because of me.” You knew he had heard everything Smith had said. “I’m sorry you’re in this mess. I’m sorry you’re tied to me. Again, let me know if you want to leave, I’d understand.”

You closed the door unaware of the sullen look on his face. The mask breaking for a crescent fallen expression. He moved at the speed of light catching the door before you closed it. The fire in his eyes raged like rumbling lava. He pulled it open fully as you stood there shocked. His posture was strong as the muscles bulged from underneath his shirt.

“Do you want me to leave?” Your mouth fell agape, caught off guard. Vulnerability bled through his words, yet it still sounded scripted, like a duty. But a part of you wanted to believe it wasn’t just his duty. It was too quiet and panic began to fill Park’s chest replacing the itch. “Please, don’t make me leave. Please…I don’t want to –I’m going to protect you until the end I promise, please, don’t make me leave.”

Your heart broke as you fought back tears. The harshness of his words hit you, especially as he punctuated the last three words. Although you had only been with him shortly, you didn’t hate him. You had forgotten, selfishly belatedly realized how your behavior had a profound effect on him.

“Stay.” You cleared your throat and spoke clearly, “You can stay.”

It was silent between you both. He was trembling. His hands felt itchy again, that odd feeling he had of wanting to reach out instead he reverted to comfort. He resumed attention stance, “Yes, Miss.”

“Y/n. Call me y/n. Don’t call me Miss anymore.”

His pupils dilated hearing your name for the first time. He had never called anyone by their first name before. He felt almost like he was committing treason, but he tested it anyway. “Y/n.”

You smiled and nodded. That smile, that smile was now making his stomach itch again.

He fidgeted in his place, muttering, “Jimin…my name is Jimin.”

The man, who often looked like he could crush iron with his fist, and gaze destroy a city with a blink, he looked like a puppy in front of you. You smiled. Without even realizing what you were doing you reached up and ruffled his hair.

His eyes were so wide. You pulled your hand back and retreated with a blush on your face after you realized what you had done. Your hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Quickly you sputtered out, “Sorry. Good night Jimin.”

He wished you hadn’t stopped. His tail was wagging a million miles per hour.

“Good night Y/n.”

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright 2020 © by magicalsalamander. All rights reserved.  
> [Crossposted on Tumblr: link here](https://magicalsalamander.tumblr.com/post/190351147874/show-me-your-teeth)


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